


Everything and Nothing

by Kingshammer



Category: Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 20:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18017891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingshammer/pseuds/Kingshammer
Summary: "She should’ve known that in the end, it would be Kimberly who would be there, waiting for her. No other force existed that could stop Trini in her tracks. At the conclusion of all things, it would always be Kimberly. Salvation and devastation, all in one."Canon-compliant one-shot.





	Everything and Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> All I've got to say is that I have a bunch of homework and other stories I should be working on, but this was entirely too much fun to write.
> 
> Rated T for language.

Trini edges to the corner of the building. She’s at an intersection and she needs across. It’s quiet where she is and the silence is as oppressive as the dark around her. It’s close to midnight now, the sun long gone. She squints trying to see if there’s anything, anyone, across the street. It’s nearly impossible to tell through the protective shield on her helmet. Or maybe it’s just that dark.

 

She decides there’s nothing. Besides, she can’t stay put forever. Forward is the only way. She looks to her right. Nothing coming up that street. She steps away from the wall and peeks down the street to her left before tucking back in out of sight. Nothing again.

 

(The anxiety of being caught ripples under her skin like an electric current).

 

She takes a deep breath to steady herself.

 

_One_

_Two_

_Three_

 

And despite the anxiety gnawing at her stomach, she sprints across the street. She skids to a halt once she’s cleared the intersection, heart hammering in her chest, listening. Her weapon is at the low ready, prepared to snap up and engage any pursuers. But there’s nothing. No one. Just a gentle breeze that stirs old trash and dust.

 

She ducks into an alcove and allows herself a moment to breathe. She closes her eyes and counts down slowly from ten.

 

(She uses this method to calm herself often. It’s a favorite for the first day of school, class presentations, and avoiding fights with her parents. It’s taken years, but Trini has learned control. Her mind is her own.)

 

She’s tired. She’s so tired. Tired of running. Tired of fighting. Tired of the protective armor that clings to her sweaty body. She’s tired of the spine tingling sensation that says at any point she could be ambushed. She wants to rest, to take a break from this miserable contest.

 

She can’t though. Peace would only be found in victory or defeat. She wasn’t sure which she craved anymore. She opened her eyes. The street was still quiet. She drew in a calmer breath. She unslung her backpack. She lifted her helmet and drank the last of the water she’d brought with her. She wiped her brow and pulled the helmet back down. She topped off her ammunition. It had been at least an hour since she’d fired the gun. It was only now that she felt safe enough to reload.

 

(“It’s called a tactical reload!” barks Tommy to her teammates, “And it could save your hide! You reload after every skirmish and you won’t run out of ammo!” She’s pacing in front of him and Trini is reminded of a caged lion.

 

“Tommy, take a deep breath,” Trini sighs. Tommy’s brilliant green eyes lock on her.

 

“I’ll breathe when I’m dead Gomez,” she responds almost savagely. Billy raises his hand to protest that Tommy doesn’t make any sense.

 

“Don’t bother Billy, she wears crazy like a fashion statement,” Trini tells her friend.)

 

“Last push Gomez,” she whispered to herself. She knows she needs to move. She stands and sets her jaw. The end was near, she could feel it. It was time. She was ready to stop all the fighting. Ready to stop testing just how far the resolution for her cause would go. Every trigger pull had been a necessary evil. Absolution was hers, if only she were brave enough to take it. It could all be worth it if she could just finish it now.

 

She turned into the street and started walking. There was desolation everywhere she looked. Rubble lined the streets, casting shadows that hadn’t always existed. Debris from half collapsed buildings mixed with the concrete and asphalt that had run deep under the city once. It was a quiet, still kind of chaos. For a moment Trini was reminded of yoga and thumping rock music under the brilliant rays of new morning light. How long had it been she’d stood on the mountain top?

 

(Only this morning, but in the destruction around her, she’s sure it was a lifetime ago.)

 

It didn’t matter now.

 

Trini walked paths in a city she’d once known. These streets had been familiar. They belong to no one now, not even her. Familiarity was just another trap. One she refused to fall for.

 

It was twenty minutes of steady movement before she reached the pathway that would lead her to her destination. She smiled without humor. It was still quiet. No sounds of battle here. And why would there be? None on her side had ever come this close before. She alone had managed to slip past the opposition. She alone had disappeared into the darkness, crawled her way here, to this moment.

 

(It hadn’t been easy, but for once her size had worked in her favor. Amidst the shouts and yells of her comrades, the sounds of battle, she’d swallowed her fear, found her courage, and slipped ahead, into the dark embrace of enemy territory.)

 

She walked the path that opened to the old courtyard. It was built in a circle with one main path that led up to the old capital building. It stood tall, a monolith to a time that was, but would never be again.

 

It had been beautiful, once.

 

(Trini had dim memories of bright, sun filled days and flowerbeds that burst with roses in every color. The statue in the center of the square had been proud and beautiful and the area had been a symbol of unity and harmony.)

 

All that was left now was the rearing horse, its rider long gone, obliterated like the rest of the forsaken area. A fire blazed beneath it, a haphazard thing surrounded by uncut rocks, that cast flickering light and shadow across the once great space.

 

She had to reach that statue. She cast her eyes around the courtyard. Nothing stirred. She was tempted for a moment to criticize her opponents’ arrogance. To leave the goal unattended was the height of arrogance. She fought the admonition as quickly as it swelled. She’d been in this fight long enough to know that the opponent was far from arrogant. They were cunning and ruthless. Meticulous as they were unrelenting. To assume there was no security was to walk into a trap.

 

But walking into a trap was her only choice, now. She had to reach the center of the courtyard. She dropped her backpack. She didn’t need it now. She would succeed or fall in this moment. There would be no more fights to prepare for, not anymore. One way or another, it was about to be over.

 

(She centers herself with a deep, lung filling breath.)

 

_One_

_Two_

_Three_

 

And she steps out into the courtyard. Her weapon is out, ready. The fire pulls her in like she’s a moth.

 

(She likes the idea of it. Fires stir memories of acceptance.)

 

Trini realizes in one, devastating moment, that she should’ve known better than to hope. She should’ve known that there was no victory for her. Only the most painful type of defeat.

 

She hears footsteps to her left. She knows that walk. Those footfalls are as familiar as that sun-soaked mountaintop in the mornings.

 

“That’s far enough,” she says firmly. And Trini stops. She closes her eyes and sighs. For so long now, she’s only ever come when that voice has called. It’s no different now. She turns to her left.

 

(She should’ve known that in the end, it would be Kimberly who would be there, waiting for her. No other force existed that could stop Trini in her tracks. At the conclusion of all things, it would always be Kimberly. Salvation and devastation, all in one.)

 

“I’m surprised you’re here. I could’ve sworn you were at the melee earlier,” Trini says conversationally. Her voice is loud in her ears in her helmet. She doesn’t like it. She unclips the helmet and pulls it off her head with one hand. She drops it and it rolls slightly in the dust that covers the old, weathered cobblestones. She doesn’t need it; Kimberly won’t shoot her face. The breeze is cool against her skin. She can’t help but be relieved that Kimberly mirrors her action. The breeze stirs Kimberly’s short cut hair. It wasn’t their way to hide from one another. The rest of the world maybe, but never each other. Even now.

 

“I noticed you weren’t among the defeated. I’ll admit, it was thrilling, realizing you’d gotten by. It meant we could have this moment together,” Kimberly says. There’s a competitive edge to her voice. Trini knows it well, but its strange that it’s directed at her. Trini’s wary of the weapon in Kimberly’s hands. Kimberly is a sharpshooter. Always has been. Trini does better close up. But Kimberly is easily twenty feet from her. Trini won’t win this stand off and they both know it.

 

(In her mind, she can hear Zack’s voice singing the theme to _The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly._ Terribly.)

 

“Why’d you get so close, Kim? We both know you could’ve taken me out without me having ever seen you,” Trini says. She’s stalling, maybe. She’s not sure. She’d missed Kimberly. And yes, Kimberly is her personal omen of defeat, but she’s still Trini’s and Trini is still hers. Their fates always were tangled together. Trini just never realized it might ever be a noose that bound them together.

 

“That would’ve been so impersonal, love,” Kimberly says, and she looks wounded that Trini would suggest that she’d end it from a distance.

 

(Kimberly is the kind of victor that basks in the honor of the win. She dictates the terms of her triumphs. Besides, she can’t just pass up the opportunity for Trini to know, without a doubt, that it’s Kimberly’s who’s done this, who has ended it. Her pride simply won’t allow any other scenario.)

 

“You deserve better than that. Besides, it’s so much more satisfying to have this moment, right now, right here. I want to savor it. Any space we’re in together becomes sacred,” Kimberly says quietly. Trini’s heart races at her words. She’s so tired of this, being against one another. But they’ve been in this fight for too long. She can’t just roll over. She won’t. She laughs, and it’s mocking and as close to cruel as she’s ever sounded.

 

(It’s the opposite of everything she feels.)

 

“You could’ve had this all along Kim. We could’ve been together, on the same side, just like every time before. But you made the decision didn’t you? You wanted to see what it would be like,” Trini says. There’s no actual malice in her accusations. But she hurls them out. Kimberly’s face hardens slightly.

 

“We can’t control the way things happen Trini. It’s just not that easy. We’d been lucky before. But not this time. This time the line was drawn and we were just on the wrong sides,” she says. Trini shakes her head.

 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself Kim. But it was always going to be this way huh? You and me together at the end right?” she says. And suddenly she wants it all to be over. She drops her weapon to the ground, hold empty hands out to the sides.

 

“That’s the way it works. We’re always meant to be,” Kimberly says. Trini locks eyes with her.

 

“Do it then. End this. Win. It’s what you want. Do it,” Trini challenges. If she has to lose, she’s glad it’s Kimberly that wields the finishing blow. She thinks for a moment that she might be a little bit of a masochist, but losing doesn’t seem so bad at Kimberly’s hands. This is their fate.

 

(She knows she’s a bit of a masochist, but Kimberly never makes her regret it.)

 

“I’m glad it got to be me,” Kimberly says. She raises her weapon.

 

“It’s always been you,” Trini says.

 

And there’s a series of rapid pops. Trini closes her eyes and flinches. She waits an absurdly long time before she realizes that she hadn’t felt any impacts on her body. She peeks her eyes open at the same moment Kimberly snarls, “are you _fucking_ serious? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

 

Kimberly tosses her gun to the ground and whips around as Tommy lets out a crow of victory.

 

(Trini stifles a laugh at the sheer volume of green paint that coat’s Kimberly’s back. At least Tommy didn’t hit her head.)

 

“Fuck yes! Take that shit Hart! Fuck yeah, holy shit,” she shouts in unadulterated joy. She’s ripped off her helmet lifting both it and her gun in triumph. Her jet black hair is coming undone from its high bun and with her under cut and piercings she looks like a wild thing in the fire light.

 

Trini’s eyes widen and then she lets out a whoop of laughter.

 

“Holy fuck,” she says laughing. Without wasting another moment, she jogs over to the statue left in the courtyard and rips down the scrap of Zack’s t-shirt they’ve used as a flag. Tommy runs over and jumps into her arms, nearly knocking her over. Tommy has several inches on her and is like a tornado wrapped in a nineteen year old’s body. Not for the first time, Trini is thankful for the coin in her pocket.

 

(It was always the plan that they’d work toward the target from two opposing sides. Tommy had gone down early though, and Trini knew she had to stall before Tommy had been allowed to rejoin the game.)

 

“You sappy fucks! I didn’t think you’d ever stop talking,” she says. Trini smirks and drops her. Tommy doesn’t care. She hops to her feet and runs over to Kimberly. She’s got an arm around her neck plants a kiss on the other girl’s cheek.

 

“Sorry to shit on your tragic love story dialogue. It was beautiful, did you rehearse it?” she says with the cheekiest of grins.  Kimberly elbows her in the ribs. Tommy laughs.

 

“You’re not sorry,” deadpans the brunette. Tommy grabs both sides of Kimberly’s head.

 

“Not in the slightest!” and kisses Kimberly’s forehead roughly before practically skipping to the fire. Kimberly shakes her head at Tommy’s manic energy.

 

(They’re in the ruins of downtown Angel Grove. The city is still devastated, almost two years after Rita Repulsa’s failed invasion. The fact was clearing the rubble and rebuilding was more expensive than the city could hope to afford for a time. City management combed the ruins, thankful to find that no one dead, and fenced off the area against trespassers. Fortunately, it means it’s an untouched landscape ideal for superpowered teenagers who decide paintball in an urban warfare setting is an ideal summer past time.)

 

Kimberly groans as she pulls off her now paint covered back and chest protection. She’s soaked in sweat and looking just the slightest bit put out. Trini strolled up to her with a shit eating grin absolutely plastered on her face.

 

(Tommy’s on her walkie talkie letting everyone know the flag’s been got and it’s finally time for their bonfire. She drags a cooler out from near the base of the statue and drops her own sweat soaked protective gear.)

 

“Come on cutie, don’t pout,” Trini says, a teasing lit to her voice. She feels like she’s flying she’s so excited. It’s been four hours’ worth of paintball capture the flag and winning feels amazing. And really, it’s a rarity that she beats Kimberly in these kind of contests. She wants to gloat, just a little bit.

 

“I don’t want to hear it Gomez,” Kimberly says dryly. Trini knows her girlfriend is viciously competitive. She always has been. She’s trying hard not to be mad, but Trini knows better. She slings the flag around the back of Kimberly’s neck.

 

“It’s just a game sweetheart,” she whispers and kisses Kimberly’s neck before biting down slightly. Kimberly whines. She wants to stay mad, but Trini’s lips are distracting. Finally she turns her head down and their lips slide together. Kimberly is sidetracked by the feeling entirely and her knees actually go a little weak. Trini nicks her lips with a less than gentle bite and Kimberly gasps. Her hands tighten on Trini’s hips and the Yellow Ranger actually growls a little bit.

 

“Get over here and help me with the food you horny shitheads!” Tommy laughs, still jubilant, gesturing with a beer that’s already half gone in her hands. They both burst out laughing. The tension of losing is all but gone now, replaced entirely by a different type of energy. Trini kisses Kimberly’s lips.

 

“Losing is good for you. Keeps you humble. If you work for it, I might let you win later,” and with a wink she saunters away. Kimberly stares after her, grin spreading on her face a little bit. Yeah. Losing sucks. But she can definitely think of worse things than Trini soothing her wounded pride.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
